


The Weather

by woollen_pharaohs



Series: The Weather [2]
Category: Music RPF, Pond (Australia Band)
Genre: Band Fic, Blow Jobs, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-26
Updated: 2017-09-26
Packaged: 2019-01-05 17:29:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12194448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/woollen_pharaohs/pseuds/woollen_pharaohs
Summary: Jay can't sleep on a hot summer night in Tokyo. Nick knows exactly how to help.





	The Weather

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by Jay playing with his nipple in this interview: https://youtu.be/I2NBu7YVo9o?t=192

Perth is humid but nothing in comparison to Tokyo’s humidty. Tokyo is the entire population of Australia in one city, layered upwards rather than outwards, all walking around and jumping and sweating with a wall of water high in memory. The air conditioner pumps out blackened recycled air signifying the long history of smoking visitors within the room. Nick can hardly smell it though.

He bounces around the room looking in every drawer and cupboard and at all the buttons on the toilet. He jumps out of the raised bathroom and wanders across the carpet and rolls onto the bed beside Jay. Jay’s vest falls off his shoulder with the movement and Nick sits cross legged to peer at his friend’s naked chest.

“You playin’ with your nips?” Nick queries.

Jay flicks his nipple once more and then glances at Nick. “Yeah.”

Jay directs his gaze back to his nipples. He continues to flick his right, which is already firm. Nick cranes over his friend and chances a knobbly hand over to pet Jay’s lonely nip. Jay’s abdomen tightens at the touch, sending a bristling wave along his chest. Nick’s always been fond of Jay’s body hair. Nick doesn’t have much of it himself, hell, it’s taken him well into his 20s to collect enough hair on his upper lip and dub it a moustache. Jay’s hair does something funny on his long torso – it bursts across his abdomen, sprinkles around his belly button and up to the base of his sternum, then branches out in thick tufts like the leaves of wattle. Sometimes bits of fluff from Gum’s shirt collects in the hairline and when the tall gum tree whips off his shirt, he adorns a fluffy wattle bush on his chest.

The nipple between Nick’s fingers starts to become firm with continued fondling. A hot breath escapes Jay’s parted lips, and his eyes flutter heavy.

“Hard, aye?” Nick says as he feels the nub between his fingers.

“Yeah,” Gumbo says.

Nick chases his silver painted nails around Jay’s nipple as he ponders, “D’you reckon Shiny’s burnt nip gets hard inside out?”

Jay doesn’t answer, transfixed by Nick’s fondling.

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Nick says in response.

Nick shuffles his body to curve around Jay’s side and slips his head under Jay’s left arm. From there, he latches onto the nipple again, this time with his mouth. He hears a little encouraging sigh from Jay. A warm, sweaty hand running down Nick’s back as he sucks. The air conditioner fumes furious puffs of smoke on a croaky, endless toboggan. The cold air never reaches them. Humidity rolls in through the open windows, overpowers the cold but not the smoke scent. Jamie and Joe’s laughter carries out from their balcony.

Nick migrates from Gum’s ripe fruit bearing tree and kisses down to the roots, peeling off his snug jeans until the swollen animal nestled in the roots can come out of hiding. He tugs at the waistband of Jay’s undies and takes hold of the base when it’s exposed enough. Gumbo sits up a little to watch as Nick wraps his wobbly lips around his cock and slides the length across his tongue. Nick works his mouth to fit his friend’s cock in his mouth, a soft moan tickles out of Jay’s throat which becomes more guttural the more Nick takes of his cock.

Laughter gurgles outside again, twisting like a kaleidoscope through the open windows and splintering off over the sprawling city below. Nick draws his lower lip up the underneath of Jay’s cock and brings his tongue up to the slit, lining the strong curves there, a swollen barricade at the river bend. He looks up at Jay and sees downcast eyes shaded in lust, the navy on open seas thirsting for land, for something solid and satisfying. Nick smiles around Jay’s dick, the head pressed against the wall of his mouth and he giggles and gurgles and graces his throat with the hot and the throbbing. Hums a little tune to Gumbo’s melody. Takes him to the depths of the ocean where fires ignite in magical eclipses of forever night, hot and humid and wet, and only dark when eyes are shut. Bright and loving when the third eye reveals the meaninglessness of existence.

“Stop thinking too hard mate,” Gumbo prompts.

“Yeah, okay,” Nick mumbles around Jay’s dick since he likes the little tug Gum gives of his hair.

He sucks Jay’s cock, hollows out his mouth and squeezes the base with encircled fingers. Sweat rolling down beneath his loose T-shirt, collecting like morning dew on his upper lip and brow. His mouth wears sore easy, but he keeps going. Like a song they’ve played a hundred times. A certain mindset, a zone or temperament, with the memory of the method and the vigorousness branded present on the lips and the fingers.

Jay warns him before he cums but Nick’s in the zone and he doesn’t stop until the sapling seed slams straight down his throat. The sheet music hasn’t ceased just yet, he keeps his mouth on tight, sucking out the last dregs of cum and drinking in the glorious, exasperated moans Jay makes as he spends himself. Big hands clutching onto Nick’s shoulders. Dick hanging loose in his mouth. Then, Jay’s sitting up to lever himself out, and Nick watches Jay’s dick shudder at the loss of the wet. A trail of cum loops out of Nick’s mouth until the distance twangs it off.

Nick coughs, flopping down on the bed with salty seed scraping down his throat. Jay sits on the edge of the bed and sculls half a bottle of water, then offers the rest to Nick. Water makes the cum taste bad. Like intense fluoride. He swishes the water around in his mouth then spits it back in the bottle and tosses it away, arms falling out over the other side of the bed.

“Thanks, I needed that,” Gumbo says as he lays back down on the bed.

“No worries,” Nick replies, grinning into the ceiling, with coals of the ocean bedrock simmering in warm contentment in his belly.

**Author's Note:**

> the story behind Joe Ryan's burnt nipple: according to a comment Nick made on an instagram photo, Joe 'pulled a kettle of boiling water off the stove onto himself when he was 5' which has left him with an inverted nipple.


End file.
